


From the Backseat

by ChexLeMeneux



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Bullying, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Just High Schoolers, Not hunters, Top Dean, Underage - Freeform, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 13:50:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChexLeMeneux/pseuds/ChexLeMeneux
Summary: Castiel always wondered why he was watching from the outside, being ignored. When he came close, he was picked on, harshly. And to be picked on by Dean Winchester, a senior, who decided that this lowly freshman should suffer--why? Soon, he discovers just why he's the object of Dean's animosity and why he should've been content watching from the backseat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, fellas! It's been ages since I wrote any fanfics, so I'm not surprised if I've been forgotten. I almost always write my rape fantasies for poor unfortunate Supernatural characters, but maybe this will be a more consensual affair--who knows? Let's find out.

I always wonder, often, does anybody truly understand what it’s like to be a third wheel? I’d like to think that one day I will find a kindred spirit or whatever, but who would want to be Castiel Emmanuel Novak’s other half? I’m not seeking anyone romantically, I’m only a 9th grader, I tried that dating crap back in 5th grade--no thanks!

But seriously, who’s with me? I’m tired of always being the third wheel, the sixth toe and I _hate_ it with a passion. And do you know whose responsible for forcing me into this position? Well, I’ll tell ya. Dean frigging Winchester, that’s who. Now, being the youngest out like a HUNDRED, I often get the short end of the stick. But Gabriel and I are close, at least we were until Dean butted into our lives with his little brother Sam.

I like Sam, he’s kinda my friend, but he fits. Dean always singles me out in particular, making me feel unwanted. But that’s okay, he’s ‘Gabe’s bestie’, I should just get over it, get my own friends--no thanks, Mom. I want to either fit or have Gabriel to myself. Like right now, I’m sitting here in Dean’s black Impala, watching from the backseat.

“Oh, what _ever_ , Winchester. Chelsea was way more into me,” Gabriel says, laughing and sipping his beer. Gabriel never used to drink until Dean, and it’s so illegal, they’re both seniors.

“She was practically drooling on me when she took our order at the drive thru, dude. Get real,” Dean says, laughing and stuffing his face full of Mickey Dee’s fries. I despise fast food, I prefer to cook my own meals, but no ‘be normal, Cas! Eat this!’ Gabriel had said.

“Dean, can you drop me at Jesse’s place? We’ve gotta finish our project,” Sam requests from beside me, hopeful.

“And what might this project be for?” Dean says snootily, chuckling.

“He’s probably trying to learn how many times 1 goes into 0,” Gabe says, making a gesture with his fingers; putting one finger into a hole. Gross. I think. They always joke about sexual things.

“We’re in Earth, Space, and Science, we’ve gotta talk about the planets and stuff.” Sam says, folding his arms and pouting.

“Fiiiiine, bitch. Put her address in my phone,” Dean says, handing Sam his iPhone 10. I swear he’s overcompensating with that overly large phone.

<><><><><>

After dropping Sam off with the pretty blonde, Dean insisted on coming to our house for video games. The Xbox was mine! I earned by maintaining all A’s for the first 3-quarters of school. But do I ever get to play? Nope, never, because Dean’s a jerk.

“What should we do with the pipsqueak?” Dean asks Gabriel, looking at me with those dirty, green eyes, always searching mine for something that I don’t believe is there.

“I’m supposed to watch him, our parents are in Cali, checking out colleges for me. I said I didn’t want to go,” Gabriel says, finishing his beer and crushing the empty can in his fist, throwing it at me--I flinch hard as it hits the side of my head.

“I ain’t watching shit, loser.” Dean says, shoving me in the chest. I feel the tears welling up, I wasn’t bullied until Dean, nothing sucked until he came into my life! I feel so angry, so betrayed by my brother for befriending this monster, so ignored by my parents, they never see the bruises Dean leaves when he shoves me around, I just-just--

“I hate you!” I scream at the top of my lungs, hot tears spilling down my cheeks. I’m panting, feeling so hot with rage. Dean grabs me by the collar of my shirt, hoisting me in the air. I’d forgotten how minuscule I am in comparison, but he’d never hurt me front of Gabriel.

“Time for bed, you little asshole.” Dean snarls through gritted teeth, his forest eyes full of heat.

“Catch you in the living room for Call of Duty, you  know I need my partner!” Gabriel calls as Dean drags me off upstairs, I don't make a sound. I almost never do.

<><><><><>

Dean is rough when he throws on my bedroom floor, I fall into a pile of myself, shaking. I can’t tell if I’m shaking from fear or from fury. I’ve never felt this way before, so confrontational yet absolutely afraid of what might be the result of my actions. Whatever he has for me, I’m ready. Dean kneels down and grabs my jaw in his large hand, squeezing hard enough to bruise, pulling me toward him--pressing our lips together in-in a kiss?

“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper sharply, more frightened than anything else in this moment.

“You’re such a little bitch all the time, I never thought you’d fight back. Or react or anything,” Dean says softly, as if talking to me this way is normal and alright.

“Annnnd your point is, douche bag?” I ask meanly, squinting at him. He grabs my small hand, pressing to his crotch--gasping, I find that he’s hard.

“I like your back talk,” Dean says, kissing me again. The press of his lips to mind is strange and unfamiliar. I’ve kissed girls before, but boys, they kiss...differently. His tongue rubs across my lower lip and I pull away.

“I don't really like guys, Dean. I’m not gay--” he slaps my face, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to silence me.

“I am _not_ gay either, asshole. Don’t ever call me that,” Dean says, crushing our lips together in a searing kiss. His hot tongue invades my mouth, running along my teeth and then massaging my own tongue. I feel something in my gut, a tightening, and before I can think, I’m hard. Dean pulls me onto my full-size mattress, covering my body with is own. He spreads my skinny thighs, slotting himself between then and grinding his cock again mine through the fabric of our clothing. I moan a very unmanly moan, high-pitched and breathy. He laughs a bit, kissing my lips soon after. Then he kisses my chin, my jaw, eventually licking my neck and nipping gently at the place where neck meets shoulder--

“Oh, fuck!” I whisper-shout, gasping deeply. “I guess I found one of your sweet spots, baby.” Dean says, laughing.

“I bet I can find another,” he says quietly, suddenly trying to undo my jeans.

“Stop it, I don’t know--”

“And I don't care,” Dean says, fighting me until gets my pants down. I feel those same familiar hot tears prick my eyes, _again_. I like being bossed around my him, but I’d still like a choice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry, folks! I completely forgot I was even writing a story. This chapter wasn't rushed or anything, I just forgot to publish it. Enjoy!

“You’re such a jerk,” I whisper, closing my eyes. 

“Oh, oh, _come on_. What’d I do now?” Dean asks, stopping. “Look at me, look at me bitch.” he grunts, tapping my face. I open my eyes eventually, scowling at him deeply. 

“I can’t believe you, sometimes.” I say, scoffing. “You act like it’s cool to be a prick,” I continue, sitting up and hugging my knees to my chest. I still have on my striped t-shirt and white briefs. 

“Well, you’re a fucking tease.” Dean says, folding his arms across his chest. “I can’t believe you either,” he says immaturely, pouting. 

“A-are you pouting? You’re such a baby,” I say, elbowing him a bit. “why do you treat me so...awful?” I asks, serious. 

“I-I don’t know, Cas. You’re a good egg and I kinda hate it,” Dean confesses, looking at me, deep in my eyes. “I want to crack your perfect exterior and see what imperfections lie beneath it.” he says, leaning in slowly to kiss me--

“Yo, Deanster! Get your ass down here, I’m getting killed!” Gabriel shouts from downstairs, interrupting them. Dean all but flies off the bed, adjusting himself in his pants and running out of my room; never saying a thing. 

Later that night, when I shower before bed, I find light bruising along my jawline, my wrists, my forearms, my knees from when he threw me in my room--so many reminders that I’m _not_ insane and that he _did_ touch me. My lips are busted from his rough kisses. Shaking my head, I go to bed after setting my alarms for school the next day. 

<><><><><>

Periods 1 through 4 are a blur, all I can think about is the feel Dean’s lips against mine...his hardness rubbing me through our clothes. I’m walking down the Arts hallway headed to 5th--

“Aah!” I yelp, being pulled into the bathroom, my eyes are covered. “Stop, please!” I shout, but the noise of the other two-thousand students causes my screams to go unheard. Shoved into a bathroom stall, I’m pressed against the wall roughly, but my head doesn’t hit because of the large hand on the back of my neck; pulling me close. My eyes are uncovered to reveal...green eyes staring down at me humorously. 

“Hiya, cutie. How you doin?” Dean asks, pressing his lips to mine. Flooded with relief, I kiss him back roughly. He tries to lead, but I won’t let him. I lick his lips and force my tongue into his mouth, tasting him. I feel a hand around my throat suddenly, applying pressure until I stop. 

“What...the hell?” I gasp out, short of breath until Dean releases me. “I don’t get you,” I say, breathing heavily. He shrugs, kissing me deeply, his tongue now inside my mouth, licking and rubbing. His large hand covers my crotch, kneading with a skilled touch. He licks the shell of my ear, whispering hotly. 

“I don’t need you to get me, I just need you to zip it. As a matter of fact, don't.” he says, smiling salaciously, resting his hand on my head; guiding me on to my knee. Pressing a finger to his lips, he shushes me. I can barely breathe when Dean unzips his jeans and reaches inside, pulling a magnificent cock. I’ve never seen one so close, he’s beautifully uncircumcised. 

The head is fat, the shaft is long, and the girth...I don’t think he can screw anyone without putting a hurting on them. He’s not too veiny, but it’s so long and thick. I can’t see myself sucking this, I don’t feel it in me to do. Dean smile, rubbing the head of his cock against my lips; I tighten my lips further. Curiously, I give one quick lick from base to tip. Dean gasps in deeply, seeming surprised. Grinning a bit, I sheathe my teeth behind my lips, sucking the head into my mouth gently. Dean grips my hair in a hand, guiding me so I take more in--

“Uhn,” I gag, him having put in too much. I rest my hands on his thighs, trying to push him away, but he forces his cock deeper, causing me to gag and retch. I can’t breathe too well, but Dean keeps thrusting his thick meat in and out of my mouth with increasing speed. 

“Fuck, Cas. I’m gonna cum,” Dean moans, pumping my throat until I can’t breathe at all--suddenly there’s a rush of liquid in my mouth. I’ve never tasted cum before, Dean’s is bitter, I don’t like it. When he pulls his dick out of my mouth, I spit into the toilet, coughing a bit. Dean helps me to my feet, kissing me excitedly. The late bell rings, signaling that we both must go to 5th period. I try to leave, but he holds me, still kissing me. I push his chest, stopping him. 

“I have to go,” I breathe out, feeling dazed either from the kiss or the severe oxygen deprivation from my first try at oral. 

“Come on, Cas, I feel like I should repay you for a job well.” Dean says, winking at me. I nibble at my lip, waiting for him to let me go. He scoffs at my silence, digging his hands into my pants--

“Fuck,” I gasp, feeling his calloused hand grip my smaller member, stroking me. I know instantly that I won’t last long, resting my head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of Dean and sweat and spunk. 

“Please, baby, cum for me.” Dean whispers, stroking me harder. Even though his palm is dry, it feels like the best thing in the world--

“I’m cumming!” I shout, squeezing my eyes shut tightly, feeling a sudden and indescribable release as I spend in his hand. 

Dean smiles that wolfy, malicious grin, looking down at his hand and then back up at me. Chuckling, he wipes his palm on my mouth, smearing my seed all over my face. He leaves me alone in the stall. Hot tears prick my eyes, it seems I cry all the time now. I leave the stall as well, certain he’s gone. I refuse to look at myself in the mirror, I just wash my face with my eyes on the clear water running form the faucet. 

It would appear that Dean can hurt me with more than just his hands, he can hurt me deeper than bruises and black eyes. My emotions were never something I cried about before, but hurt feelings are certainly the wound that stings most of all. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Dean's a prick. But I love writing him this way, I hope you all love reading him this way. If anybody has a request for the next chapter, let me know and I'll incorporate it into the story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my gosh, no! I'm so sorry.

I’ve always watched him, always. I’ve known him for quite some time now, I’m amused at how he’d just take whatever was thrown his way. Castiel was attention starved, yet he loved to be in background--it was weird! I didn't know what to do with this confusing, doe-eyed little boy. 

I’m a natural-born bully, through and through. But something about Castiel makes me feel...strange, a type of strange that pisses me off, which sometimes makes me act like a complete ass. Castiel was a good kid, there was no particular reason to fuck with him, but I always do anyhow. Maybe his passive nature compels me to push him around, hoping he’ll grow a backbone and _do_ something--I don’t even know.

The other night, when I threw him in his room, I was rock hard. Ready to fuck him right there. And then he started with the waterworks and I couldn’t follow through, I never can when he cries. I-I kinda have a crush on him, but I’m not gay. Girls are my thing. But...sometimes Castiel’s slender little body...I feel like it would immaculate thrashing beneath mine, overwhelmed with pleasure. I want him to cry from cumming harder than he every has, not from being pushed harder than ever--

“Dean! Gabe’s here for you!” Sam calls, causing me to jump and screw up my journal entry. Sighing deeply, I close my journal, standing up on my bed to hide it in the crawl space overhead. My door creaks suddenly--someone’s peaking. Jumping down from my bed, I squint my eyes. 

“Whoever it is snooping, I’m gonna--Cas.” I say, eyes wide and shocked. “What uh, what--”

“I came to say, um, stuff.” Castiel says, puffing out his chest to seem bigger. “I don’t like the way you bully me and it’s gonna stop,” he says defensively, approaching me. 

“Come on, I was just messing--”

“No! I d-don’t want to hear it,” Castiel says heatedly, closing in on me--forcing me to fall back on my bed. The small boy is looking down at be admonishingly, bright blue eyes full of resentment. 

“...what’re you gonna do?” I ask, narrowing my eyes, bravado evident in my voice. Castiel doesn’t hesitate--slapping me across my face, the force of it turning my head to the right. The sting radiates throughout my cheek. But then his tender, soft hand is there, forcing me to look at him--smashing out lips together in an inexperienced kiss. It’s teeth clashing, lip bruising...perfection.

“If you keep hurting me, I’ll torture you with the one thing you can’t bully from me, Dean.” he whispers, lips brushing against mine. 

“What’s that?” I ask breathlessly. The bitch giggles.

“I think you know exactly what, Dean.” he says, patting my cheek in a not-so-gentle manner. With that, Castiel walks away. His round ass seems to swish purposefully in his dark skinny jeans. I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, running a hand through my hair. 

Without a shred of doubt, I come to the most unquestionable conclusion; that little boy is most certainly going to be the death of me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't even realize how long it's been since I updated this story. Between testing, this stupid ass musical and just LIFE, I completely forgot. 
> 
> I'll probably add another chapter tomorrow because I feel so bad. I'm sorry for those of you who still even read this stuff, I'm sorry if you've been waiting. My absolute BAD.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, another chapter within days. See? I keep my promises, I swear lol.

This five-day school seemed to last two weeks! Castiel is exhausted, so exhausted that he missed the bus home after 8th period, having dozed for quite some time. It’s 90-degree weather today, so very _humid_. It’s a half hour walk, plus my phone died, so no tunes to distract from this bitter heat. My eyes sting from hot, unshed tears as I begin the long trek home. In this weather, the normal time to get home will probably double. 

My backpack seems to weigh a ton, after only fifteen minutes into this walk. Sweat is pouring down my forehead, under my clothes; causing them to stick to my skin uncomfortably. On a whim, I take off my plain white tee, relishing in the sudden gust of wind that blows across my skin. I wipe my forehead with the shirt, continuing to walk after a moment of rest. Sunlight glints off the hood of a shiny black car that suddenly appears, causing me to squint from the pain of it. I shield my eyes with my hand. The car slows to speed I’m walking, it’s Dean’s stupid Impala. Scoffing, I cross the intersection quickly. The busts a u-turn, now driving beside me. He’s honked at for driving as slow as I’m walking, but he doesn’t care. Music plays loudly from within it, muffled. The passenger-side window rolls downs slowly, familiar music pouring out. It’s a trip hop genre, very 90s, sounding perfect and clear now. 

“Hey, little dude. Want a ride?” Dean asks, eyes hidden by reflective aviator shades; all I see is myself, topless and glistening with sweat. 

“Why would I want anything from you?” I ask angrily, folding my arms. I’m being immature, I know. 

“Well, it’s 97-degrees out. But if you’re interested in looking like a sun-dried tomato, I’ll just--”

“Wait...” I say, cutting him off. The heat seems maddening. “Just a ride home, no funny business?” I ask hesitantly, biting my lower lip a bit. Dean flashes me that wolflike grin, nodding. 

“Just you, me and THC.” Dean says, causing me to frown deeply, baffled by his flagrant drug reference. He gestures to his radio, it reads ‘Overfire - THC’, which causes me to exhale deeply. 

“Fine.” I say quietly, putting my bags in the backseat, about to get in--

“Hey, none of that. Come. Sit with me.” Dean says, that smile practically promising my demise. I shudder a bit...joining him in the front seat. We ride in silence for some time, other than the smooth sound of Sarah Folkman filling the car, helping aid the awkwardness. 

_‘My flesh wrapped around me_

_My weight on my limbs_

_My teeth, my hands, my heat, my breath_

_Dooown my throat’_

The words she says, they cause me to breathe a bit heavier. Slowly, Dean's right hand creeps off the steering wheel and onto my thigh; my eyes shuttering closed. The heat from his hand is overwhelming, rubbing me so close to my crotch, but then back down toward my knee, then back up to my crotch--this pattern of-of teasing; it’s torture. The song ends suddenly, then starts from the beginning; on repeat. Dean turns onto my street, but parks at the end of the block, ten houses from my own. It after 4 o’clock, yet no one has called or texted to check up on me. Lovely. His gaze roams over my face, he begins licking his lips. 

“Did I ever tell you how much I like the color of your eyes?” Dean asks, looking deep in my eyes. 

“N-no, you never mentioned it.” I say, nibbling on my lower lip. “I like yours too,” I say, lowering my eyes to that warm hand that still rests on my thigh. His hand caresses my chin, making me look up at him. 

“‘His eyes are blue, and blue eyes up close are a celestial phenomenon: nebulae as seen through telescopes, the light of unnamed stars diffused through dusts and elements and endlessness. Layers of light. Blue eyes are starlight.’”

“Laini Taylor,” I whisper, surprised. I adore poetry, I’ve even attended poetry groups, poetry slams...I never knew that Dean...knew. He licks his lips again, pulling my face closer to his own. I close my eyes, hoping against hope that, I don’t know, maybe he can be kind to me. I feel warm, moist lips press gently against my own. A tongue grazes my lips--I can hardly breathe. 

“You should get in the house,” Dean whispers, the warmth of his breath ghosting against my lips. I pull back, looking at him in...wonder. I nod, silently getting out of the car. My legs are like jelly beneath me. I’m as lost as the day I first laid eyes on this enigmatic creature. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you can enjoy the sudden turn the story has taken, like, SUPER sudden. If you guys have any ideas or requests as to how this story should continue, let me know. I have some ideas here and there, but I'm open to suggestions. Wuv you.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo, I had to fix this chapter because it was repeat of the previous chapter.

Summertime, a time when you’re free from school. A time when you can be with your friends, enjoy the weather, truly just be in your skin. In the heat of the summer, I found myself greatly anticipating the coming of the fall, my first year as a high school student. 

Everyone in middle school dreamed of leaving just as they dreaded it, uncertain of whether they’ll lose long lasting friendships, popularity, notoriety--so many self-centered worries. I felt very differently, I had never been that cared for in middle school, so moving on wouldn’t really change me from ‘known’ to ‘unknown’ because no one knew me at all. 

For a short time in the 7th grade, I had been popular. My mother bought me a really cool road bicycle, the color of my eyes. It was called _Meg_ , after my best friend from preschool to middle school. She’d moved away in the 6th grade, I missed her so much. I’d been taking her for a ride in August, enjoying the sun against skin, tanning me comfortably. 

As I came across the old Miller’s home, I noticed a U-Haul truck. A large man, with what I assumed was his son, were moving heavy pieces of furniture together. A younger boy was moving boxes. The older boy wasn’t wearing a shirt, his well-cut abs slick with sweat, his smooth, tan skin moist. Stopping, I watch for awhile. The Miller’s house was very nice, white with blue shutters and a yellow door. It had about three or four bedrooms, I’d been there a number of times, playing with one of my few friends. It seemed that all my friends moved away at some point, leaving me without anyone to talk to. I thought these things while looking at the clouds, not paying attention to my surroundings when--

“Hey, you, what're you doing?” the older boy asks, approaching me suddenly. I looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. 

“Um, I uh, I--”

“You spying on me?” he asks, folding his arms; narrowing his green eyes. Those eyes, they were so...

“I’ve never seen eyes like yours,” I say, biting my lower lip soon after. Certain thoughts need to stay in my head.  

“Same with yours, blue eyes. Why were you watching me?” he asks, eyes still squinting at me for some reason. 

“Well, I-I was just...I don’t know.” I say and he scoffs, causing me to flinch a bit. There’s something about the way he’s looming over me, he seems so intimidating; threatening. 

“Were you being a Peeping Tom?” he asks, walking closer to me. I get off my bike completely, backing away. He continues forward, until I thump against a tree, trapped. 

“I-I wasn’t peeping, I was just curious.” I say, looking at my feet. He chucks his finger under my chin, making me look up to me. 

“What’s your name?” he asks, looking me dead in the eye. “I want to know the name of my curious peeper,” he says. 

“Castiel,” I say lowly, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. This strange boy, touching me, pressing his body so close to mine that I can feel his warmth. 

“Curious Castiel, you see everything...don’t you?” he asks, pressing his lips to my ear. “Do you want to see more of me?” he whispers. I can hardly breathe, I’ve never had someone so close to me, so deep in my personal space. 

“I-I-I don’t know, sir. Please, I have to get home.” I say quietly, breathing in the scent of sweat and Old Spice and just...boy. I never knew that I would come to love the smell of...guy. 

<><><><><>

Looking at myself now, in comparison to then, I feel so different. The first time I had met that enigmatic boy, he’d seemed so captivating. Now? Who is he now? He’s a bully now. And then he’s not. Closing my journal, I sit up on my bed. 

It’s a Saturday night, I’ve done all my homework and now I have nothing to do. I’m resting in an oversized white t-shirt, no pants, because this is an unusually hot June. I’m home alone. Sam wanted to hangout, but then this Jessica girl wanted to go bowling with him. He said I could go, but being a third wheel isn’t my idea of a fun Saturday. 

I’d ordered a pizza some time ago, now I just have to wait, it should be here any-- _ding dong_. Minute. Strange. I rub my eyes, yawning as I come downstairs, cash in hand. I open the door. 

“Hello, sir. One medium pan pizza, one 2-liter...Cas.” That voice.

“Dean,” I gasp, seeing him in the Dominos uniform. “What’re you doing?” I ask, so lost. He never said he had a job. 

“Um, working.” he says, smiling shyly. “One 2-liter Pepsi and one chocolate lave crunch cake. That’ll be $22.60,” he says, handing me my receipt. 

“I, uh, I can’t carry all of that. Can you bring it inside?” I ask, nibbling on my lower lip. He nods slowly, coming in the house...I close the door behind him. He already knows where the kitchen is, being a frequent flyer in my home. He sets everything down neatly. I hand him $25.

“Do you want me to get you change?” he asks stiffly, seeming so uncomfortable. 

“No, keep it. As a tip,” I says, smiling tightly. He nods, smiling back to same way. He awkwardly heads for the front door. 

“Enjoy your pizza, Cas.” he says, pulling the door open--I rest my hand on his, pushing the door closed. 

“What’s going on with you?” I ask gently, feeling so very nervous. His back is to me, I can hear him breathing hotly through his nose. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says coldly, shrugging. “you're the one keeping me here when I have to work.” he says. 

“Why did you kiss me? Why did you...do those things, in school?” I ask and he turns around, grabbing me by my shoulders. His eyes seem so troubled, filled with an emotion I can’t identify. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angel Dark_Danny55 let me know that chapter 5 was chapter 4.  
> THANK YOU SIR!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!

Dean has never met someone that makes him feel so conflicted like this. God! I don’t get what signals this dweeb is trying to send me. Fuck me, don’t fuck me--pick one you little motherfucker. Christ! Castiel’s smooth, silky shoulders feel so good under my calloused hands. Why did he have to invite me in? I’m like a vampire; once you invite me in, your fate is in my hands. 

His eyes seem so worried, like he knows he’s my prey and I’m waiting to attack. I’d love to snap my jaw around this gazelle’s slender neck. But, no. I won’t do it. Not until I get an invitation, an invitation to the party happening between his smooth, hairless thighs. 

“Dean?” he calls, bringing my attention back to the moment. “Why?” he asks again, with those eyes. I’m sure I’ll never see such captivating eyes again in my lifetime, I’m certain of it. 

“Parce que tu moi tentes,” I whisper, lowering my eyes. 

“How? How do I do that? I didn’t _do_ anything,” he says, getting flustered, like he’s truly to blame for _my_ actions. That’s rich. 

“You did, Cas. You watched me, from the moment I got here in this town. You cast a spell on me with those eyes,” I say, laughing a bit. 

“I was just curious a-about the new neighbors,” he says, pouting. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” he says pleadingly. 

“I want you, boy. Don’t you get it? I want you so badly,” I say and a redness slowly crawls across the boy’s pale cheeks. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he says and it’s his turn to whisper shyly, causing me to smile but it lacks any humor. 

“I hate you sometimes, Cas.” I whisper and he flinches, like I hit him. “I wish you would stop torturing me and fucking pick,” I say, gripping his jaw. 

“I-I don’t know, Dean. I don't even know if I like boys,” Cas says quietly, so I kiss him. He moans into my mouth, such a sweet fucking sound. 

“Still don’t know?” I ask and he shakes his head slowly, grabbing me by my shirt collar, pulling our lips together. He sticks his unskilled tongue in my mouth, licking around and tasting curiously. He runs his tongue over my teeth, my tongue, nearing the back of my throat a bit. I push him away.   
“D-did I do something wrong?” he asks, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry, I--”

“Shush, kid. You just need to rub my tongue gently with yours, try not to examine my stomach when you kiss me.” I say causing him to laugh, nodding slowly. He kisses me again.I rub my hands all over him, pulling him to me closely, resting my hands on his nice, soft ass--

<><><><><>

“Mmm, stop.” I say, pulling his hands off. 

“What?” Dean asks, smiling, kissing my lips. 

“I don’t know if I want you touching me like that,” I say softly, looking him in the eye, completely serious. 

“Um, were we not just kissing?” he asks, laughing. 

“Kissing doesn't mean you can touch me,” I say, scowling. I grab Dean’s wrists, twisting him quickly--forcing him against the wall. I’m not very strong, but he lets me be in control anyway. I’m usually a bit of a wimp, but I feel pretty brave tonight. I press his wrists above his head, on my tip toes, kissing his neck. He smells like Old Spice, making me feel tingly inside. His smell is so...intoxicating. I release his wrists, ripping his button-up shirt open. His six-pack is sexy. I find myself rubbing it. And an idea strikes me. I kiss his chest, slowly kissing down his stomach. I feel these strange sensations down low, getting hard. I stop kissing at his belt buckle, undoing it quickly. I unzips his slacks, looking up at his through my eyelashes, striving for innocence. 

“How would you like it...if I...touched you?” I ask slowly, licking his lips. 

“I--”

“Why should I bother asking? You don’t,” I say, cutting him off. I pull his pants down a but, reaching inside his dark boxer briefs. I grab his hard cock in my hand, wrapping my lips around the head. 

“Oh, fuck.” Dean moans out, resting a hand in my hair. I slap him. 

“ _Don’t_ touch me,” I chastise sternly, licking up the shaft slowly with my very wet tongue. I hear his head thump against the wall, so I suck him deeper into my mouth. Dean’s breathing is ragged as I suck up and down, fucking my mouth onto his faster. 

“Cas, oh fuck, I’m gonna come.” Dean says and that’s my cue. I stop giving him a blow job, wiping the spit from around my mouth. I stand up quickly, smiling in his very surprised face. 

“Thanks, delivery boy. I hope you enjoyed your tip, I’ll see ya.” I says, pushing him toward the front door. 

“What the fuck, dude?” Dean asks, trying to put his dick away. 

“I’m done with you, so you should go. Bye,” I say, forcing him out of the door. 

 

As I sit down with my pizza and soda in front of the tv, I smile to myself. What I just did felt like a little victory for me, truly. Dean Winchester isn’t the only person who can screw with people. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this chapter, I feel like our little nerd has turned a new leaf in the story.


	7. Chapter 7

What...in God’s name...just happened to me?

I’m gripping the steering wheel of my Baby tightly, hoping it’ll anchor me here in this moment. Maybe the feel of it will keep me from thinking this was a dream. Cas really just did that. He gave me everything I wanted...and took it away as quickly as it came. Not porn. Not a dream. This _actually_ happened. I can’t even be mad. I’m an asshole; I had this coming. But, Jesus! A guy could use a warning or something.

 

THIS IS NOT A DRILL, THIS IS NOT A DRILL. YOU ARE ABOUT TO HAVE THE WORST BLUE BALLS OF YOUR YOUNG LIFE.

 

Something is better than nothing, I always say. My dick feels like it’s chaffing against my underwear. He barely gave me any time to adjust. He’d finally given in to my charms, was sucking me off, dude. SUCKING ME OFF! And then...he kicked me out of his house. _I_ usually did that, _I_ usually kicked bitches to the curb. But not today. Today, I was put outside like a dog.

 

I had to call somebody.

 

“Mmm, hello?” she answered tiredly, finally picking up the phone the millionth ring. It was after midnight, my shift long over.

“Hey,” I say shyly and she groans.

“This had better be good, Winchester.” she says, annoyed.

“Jo, I’m in a bad place.” I say honestly.

“What’s going on? Do I have to come and kick somebody’s ass out there?” she asks quickly, fully awake now.

“No, nothing like that. I’m just...fucked up.” I say, not quite sure how to phrase my current situation.

“Come out with it, Dean. I’m ready to fight, guy.” Jo says, ever the mama bear.

“I met a guy annnnd he hates me and I think I’m head over heels for him,” I say in a rush of words, cringing once I hear them leave my mouth. There’s a silence that follows. Long and painful is that silence, seeming to drone on into--

“You’re a total fag,” is the first thing Jo says, followed by laughter.

“I am not a fag, you dick!” I shout into my phone, gripping the warm device tightly in my hand.

“I told you guys were for you, bitch. I told you! You didn't want to hear it,” Jo says, still laughing.

“But...I like girls.” I say and even I don't believe me.

“Whatever, Winchester. Why do you think he hates you?” she asks, moving on and waving off my denial.

“Because I’ve treated him like shit for months and sexually harassed him and made him things he’s not ready for and--”

“Shut up! God in heaven, zip it. One thing at a time. Were you bully this boy?” she asks and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I’m a grade A asshole, Jo. I’ve been kicking his ass for a while now,” I confess and she scoffs.

“Typical, fucking typical. You closeted fags always pick on the ones who care for most. Grow up, Dean.” she says, sighing angrily.

“He’s only a freshman, I’ve things way too far for someone so young.” I say and she gasps into the phone.

“What have you done to this kid, exactly?” she asks incredulously.

“I've touched him inappropriately--”  
“What’d you _do_?” she presses, impatient.

“I jerked him off and I sucked him off, that’s it.” I say and I hear her exhale.

“Okay, okay. I don’t care about upperclassmen getting with underclassmen, I care about how far you take it. If you were dating, then the sexual aspect wouldn’t be so bad. But, Dean--”

“I know, Jo. Okay? I know. I’m trying to get my shit together but it’s hard! He's so hot and intelligent and sarcastic and innocent,” I ramble, biting my lip so I can shut up.

“What happened tonight to make you call me?” she asks and I can only shake my head at first.

“I got a delivery job at Dominos, I made a delivery to who I thought would be his parents--but it was him. He invited me in and gave me head. Right when I was about blow, he threw me out.” I say, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.

“Wow, Dean. This kid’s got balls. He planned it out and got what he wanted,” she says, chuckling a bit.

“What was his plan? What did he have to gain by toying with me?” I ask, feeling so very lost.

“You always initiate everything sexual, right?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say, guilty.

“He finally took control and made a simple statement: you’re not the only one. You don’t always get to dictate how these things go,” she says and it finally sinks in. I’m not the only one. He can fuck me over as much I fuck him over. Whoa. I run my hand through my hair anxiously.

“What should I do?” I ask and she scoffs.

“Beats me, dude. I suggest you apologize and keep it pushing. He’s cute, smart and now he’s in control. The ball’s in his court, love.” she says and I feel a strange anticipation.

“Thank you for answering, Joanna Beth. I love you.” I say and she giggles a bit.

“I love you too, Winchester. Goodnight.” she says, ending the call.

 

So, the ball’s in his court. I wonder what play he’ll make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry, y'all! If I still have people reading this story, I'm really sorry. I have been super busy with school back in session and sports and quitting sports and dealing with medical issues--my bad. I'll try to keep up with this story since it's not too bad and I have fun writing it.   
> Love ya!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I STINK at keeping up with this story. I've had most of this chapter just sitting, thinking I had posted it. Then I read through and realized I wasn't done--anyway, sorry. Balancing school, work, and life while writing fanfic, doing extracurriculars as well as bitch ass drama...it's tougher than I thought.

I cannot believe--I must’ve lost my mind! I gave Dean Winchester a blowie. I got down on my knees and...I tasted the most intimate, private part of him. And he liked it. He liked it when I took control, he liked it when I licked him down _there_. I’ll probably never tell another soul this but...I liked it too. I tasted Dean Winchester and I liked it.

 

He tasted clean, smelled like Irish Spring soap. Someone told me once that the taste was like licking your wrist, which was true...until it got kinda salty. I nearly lost my mind when he gave me a blowie, he actually lost his mind when I did it for him. At least, he seemed like he did. Then I gave him a royal stomp to the ego--I kicked him out when he was about to come! I felt like a _king_. And sometimes a king must be a douche. It’s par for the course and--

 

_Knock, knock, knock!_

 

It’s too early for guests.

 

I’ve only put on my white t-shirt and briefs, the clock on my desk says 6:45. Opening the door slowly, I see a curly-haired, crazy-eyed brunette. It’s the girl from my science and health class, it’s--

“Hi, newbie, I’m Hannah.” she says, smiling shyly.

“Uhhh, hi. What are you doing in my house?” I ask slowly, holding the doorknob in my grip; as protection. Girls still make me SO nervous. She digs in her one-strap Boho shoulder bag, producing my cobalt binder.

“You left this in AP the other day,” she says, adjusting her large, square glasses.

“Right! We also have AP Geometry together,” I say, remembering.

“You’d think being together for 2 hours and 15 minutes every day for the last couple months would make an impact...clearly not.” she says, making me feel guilty. But it’s not my fault!

“Hey, I’ve been busy, okay? I have a life outside of school and--”

“No worries! It’s okay, I understand. I just...want you to know...I want to be your friend.” she says, smiling. Her eyes are so bright and pretty. Those blue beams seem to sparkle.

“I think I’d like that,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck a bit.

“I hope we can ride the bus together today, I usually sit in the back and you sit in the front and--”

“Sure, just give me a little time to get ready.” I say, smiling. “Do you...live in this neighborhood?” I ask her and her smile slowly fades.

“I live two houses away from you,” she answers, sounding hurt.

“Right, I’m sorry. As soon as I get dressed, we can go. Sorry,” I say and she nods, leaving my doorway and heading for stairs.

<><><><><>

The ride to school is...awkward. Hannah sits too close, letting our bare thighs touch my own. I wasn't paying much attention before, but her outfit is very suggestive. She’s wearing an oversized mustard cardigan, with a white button-down and a mustard tartan skirt. She looks like a little school girl. She’s completely silent, only smiling excitedly as her pretty, pink lips fly a mile per hour. I’m hardly listening, nervously holding my backpack over my crotch. Those lips and that smile make me so tingly. Then that tingle turns into...something else. When we’re let off the bus, I practically run away.

 

Lunch finally came, after having dealt with more than enough awkward stares from that girl. Most of the awkwardness coming from me. We have three class periods together. Three! Who even made these stupid class schedules?! Three is beyond what we need together. Lunch came and I was thrilled. Sam, Jesse and I got to hang out and didn’t feel like a third wheel. Jesse had a very inclusive spirit, very courteous and aware of everyone around her. She was so sweet. Unlike some stalkers.

“Cas? You still with us?” Sam asks, waving his hand in front of my face. I shake my head to clear it, having zoned out.

“I-I have a stalker,” I blurt out, sudden.

“Do you mean Hannah?” Jesse asks, smiling gently.

“Yeah!” I almost shout. She only laughs.

“She asked about you our theatre class, I think she has a crush on you.” Jesse says and suddenly...I don’t feel so bad. It’s almost the second week of October; Homecoming season. Maybe Hannah’s the distraction I need. She’s not a complete weirdo, she’s just crushing!

“That’s not the worst thing considering that I kinda like her too,” I say, rushing that last part a bit.

 

The bell rings, school lets out and I’m on the hunt.

“Hannah!” I shout above the noise of the crowd and she turns around immediately, those blue eyes curious and alert.

“Yes, Castiel?” she responds, saying my name in full. No one ever does that anymore. I like the way she says it.

“May I walk you home?” I ask and she smiles a dimply, shy smile; nodding.

<><><><><>

In the distance, nearly a block away, he’s watching. I can feel his gaze on our backs. I’d noticed him trailing us some time ago. Winchester, ever the hunter. He hopes to hold me in this place of longing like I’ll always be a slave to his behavior. But I won’t. I long to reach a state of...homeostasis; balance. I can’t have that with Dean, so I’ll make what I can with Hannah. I can be open and normal with her. Plus...she’s a cutie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have anything you want me to add to this story, let me know. I've got some ideas cooking but it's clashing with some plot lines for My Dark Twisted Fantasy anthology series so...help me out. 
> 
> I'm a people pleaser, if you request something for the story, I'll most likely fit it in. Heh, fit it in. XD

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope this work is enjoyed, it's not going to be very long, so I just want to get all the fun out quickly and milk for everything it might be worth.  
> If you liked it, you're a perv. My perv. So gimme some kudos please!
> 
> P.S., I never write in first person, sorry if I screwed it up.


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